


Top Drop

by Evil Crutchie (PawPunk)



Series: Kinktober 2019 [14]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Kinktober, M/M, Panic Attacks, Praise Kink, Top Drop, dacryphillia, hella consent, say 14
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 06:49:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21032015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PawPunk/pseuds/Evil%20Crutchie
Summary: Something goes horribly wrong while Crutchie is rewarding Jack (at least, he thinks it does)





	Top Drop

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vexatious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vexatious/gifts).

> Trigger warnings: read the tags, top drop (Crutchie feels shitty for his kinks), and lowkey gross descriptions of bodily fluids (very briefly)

Crutchie had Jack bent over his desk with his hands pinned to the table and his legs forced open, just how he liked it. Every thrust forced a tiny squeak of ecstasy from his mouth. He couldn’t really do anything else.

“Harder~” he choked out, unable to focus on anything besides Crutchie’s thick cock pounding into him. Crutchie complied, hilting himself in Jack. This was his reward, after all, for putting together this nice desk for Crutchie.

“Such a good boy,” Crutchie panted. “Such a good boy for taking my cock so well, for being so obedient-” He nibbled Jack’s shoulder.

Jack couldn’t help it. The praise and pleasure pushed him over the edge, and his body spasmed as he sobbed with happiness. A puddle of drool and tears formed on the table under his face, and he couldn’t- and didn’t want to- lift his head. Jack was in heaven right where he was.

“Such a pretty- Jack?” Crutchie said, stopping immediately. “Oh my G-d.” He pulled out, staggering back. 

“Master?” Jack whined.

“Jack, I- I’m so sorry, oh _G-d_,” Crutchie wept. His breath came in panicked gasps, quickly and effectively drawing Jack out of subspace. He shakily stood up, wiping his face and turning to face Crutchie.

“Crutchie, hey, I’m fine,” he said gently. Crutchie didn’t seem to hear him- he just shrunk away from Jack like a wild animal from a flashlight beam. 

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Jack stressed, gently lowering Crutchie onto the sofa. “Those were happy tears, I _swear_.”

“Hap- happy tears?” Crutchie asked, clinging to Jack.

“Yeah. You know I like it rough, baby, and sometimes when I feel really good I start crying. That’s all. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Crutchie took a deep breath. “Okay,” he huffed. He buried his face in Jack’s shoulder. Jack rubbed his back until his breathing calmed. 

“It won’t happen often, but next time you’ll know I’m okay, right?” Jack asked. 

“Yeah,” Crutchie sniffed. “I’ll still ask for a safeword, though.”

“Whatever makes you more comfortable,” Jack assured him. 

“Thanks,” Crutchie sighed. “You know I love you, right?”

“I do.” Jack kissed his head. “Do you want me to run you a bath?”

“That could be nice.” Jack promptly scooped Crutchie up and carried him bridal style to the bathroom.


End file.
